


She Hated to See Him Go

by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fic Exchange, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Love, One-Shot, Post-War, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 06:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19785352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns/pseuds/DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns
Summary: Would Pansy hate to see him go? Or did she love watching him walk away?





	She Hated to See Him Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxDustNight88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/gifts).



> Pansy wasn't as horrible in Hogwarts, just for the convenience that I didn't go over word count. Happy readings! Fingers crossed I did right by the prompt <3

Pansy stood in the large space that would be her living room. The walls were being painted beige, and there would be indigo furniture–she was stepping away from her Slytherin colors for a second. 

Black and indigo tapestries were draped across the windows, and more furniture was being conjured. She was going to love this place. 

After graduating Hogwarts, Pansy wanted a fresh start. She didn’t want to stay in Europe any longer. The witch would miss her friends that she had at home, but this was the ideal option for her. 

The two-story home she found within the States was settled in one of the forest-y spaces in New York. It had five bedrooms–one of which was going to be her closet because that was necessary–and a large living space. The only thing about it was that there were parts of the home that needed to be repaired. That wouldn’t be a problem for her given who she was; not that the former owner knew that. It would simply take time, persistence, and concentration. 

What made things even better was that it was bright and sunny out; that was plenty of natural light to aid in choosing the right colors for each room. 

Pansy rubbed her hands together, the smile slowly growing on her face for the possibilities of her future. A knock on the door broke the dream in her mind. She quickly dispelled her renovating charms on the room and approached the door cautiously. No one should know her address yet. Who could possibly know or even wander around this area? 

As soon as she opened the door and met the eyes of Sam Wilson, she got her answer. Then her eyes zoned in on the bags that he had strapped around his shoulders. 

“Can’t a man get a hug?” he asked, opening his arms with a wide grin. 

She shook her head. “Hell no,” she answered. To prove she meant business, she revealed her wand. “How and why are you here when I’ve only just moved in days ago.” 

“Calm down, Pans, you should already know how I would find out something like that,” Sam answered, stepping forward unafraid. “As for why, I erm…” Sam scratched the back of his head. “I was staying in New York a little longer this time to visit Steve, and I didn’t want to spend on a crappy hotel after I left my old apartment.” 

Pansy looked unconvinced. 

“Steve called me up and might have mentioned that someone close to the organization was moving in town,” Sam said looking away briefly with a small smile. 

There it was. 

“So I’m supposed to welcome you into a home I’ve yet to even finish myself?” Pansy inquired with another look. 

He gave her an innocent look that made her narrow her eyes. He was playing a good game. She would not give in. She had work to do without him getting in the way of it. 

“Fine,” she said. “You can have the guest room. Just don’t get in the middle of my renovations, please? The spells are finicky and don’t like to be disturbed.” 

Sam stepped forward, engulfing Pansy in a sudden hug. “I knew you had a soft spot in there for me,” he said, coming into the house. 

As Pansy closed the door behind her, she prayed to Merlin that her summer would go smoothly. 

* * *

Pansy met Sam at a bar. She was getting into the ropes of New York and all the finer things it had when a bloke was getting too handsy for his own good. Sam was the one to save the day. She didn’t like it one bit because she could have hexed the man into oblivion. 

If she wouldn’t get in trouble with American Magic Laws, that is. So she had to suck it up and thank him. When he saw the expression on her face, he offered to help her with knowing self-defense techniques. The rest was history. 

He found out about her magic at the exact same time she found out he was Falcon. There was another mishap that involved a replica of a big green thing the Muggles called Hulk, but that's another story. 

Pansy was close to Sam and Steve, letting them know to keep close when she was back around; this was not what she meant, though. His promise to keep away from her renovations was bullshit. 

Sam tossed his bags on one of the more uneven floors in the sitting room; it fell through the hole it made. 

He leaned against the dining room wall while she had been  _ painting _ . There’s a palm print near the door frame to the living room. She hexed him, but she didn’t let him know that she was going to keep it. 

Pansy nearly hexed herself at the many suggestions that Sam had. Purple instead of beige, white instead of indigo. It was going to be a Sam-less house instead of a house with Sam in it. When Pansy told him that with a huff to her room, and he tried to open the door she was hiding behind, effectively taking it off its hinges. Would she hate to see him go?

* * *

The witch ran a hand through her hair as she padded down the hallway towards her bathroom.  _ Thank Merlin _ it was one of the finished rooms. Her muscles were aching from the strain of renovation spells–maintaining the right wand position and complete concentration was strenuous work. All she wanted to do was soak in her tub with enchanted bath fizzies like she used to in the Prefects Bathroom and worry about more renovations tomorrow. 

She couldn’t forget about her houseguest who added an additional stress bubble to the witch’s life. At this rate she’d charm silver hairs from her person earlier than intended; Pansy could  _ not  _ have that. 

At the thought of Sam and his latest actions, Pansy shook her head. He’d been quiet since Pansy made him fix the door he broke, and while the cautious witch should be paranoid, she only wanted to relieve her muscles. He had to be in the guestroom sleeping or something that didn’t require much noise. 

If she’d been paying attention, she would have picked up on the sound coming from her bathroom that would explain the subject of her thoughts. 

Pansy shook her head and ran a hand through her hair again before opening her bathroom door. The bathroom was a large space, nearly the size of the guest room. The beige coloring of the wall matched the rest of the house, contrasting it with checkered marble floors and black cartouche wall patterns. 

A marble double sink was set on the left side with large, frameless mirrors set above each sink. A laundry cart and cabinet for her accessories sat next to the sink. The toilet was on the adjacent wall next to the sink, and the deep corner tub rested in the corner. She also had a large walk-in shower in the other corner. 

That very shower was running–the sound of water  _ finally  _ hit her ears–and starting to produce steam. If Pansy had anything in her hand, she’d have dropped it. 

Sam was using her shower. Sam was using her shower!

Her fist clenched in irritation and anger as the image of a perfect relaxing evening was ruined by Sam’s interference. He couldn’t have heard her come in because he didn’t turn around once. Trained soldier her arse. As her desire to unleash a world of hurt on the man grew, the realization of the sight in front of her did as well. 

His back was facing her, and even through the growing steam, she saw the clench of his back muscles as he moved his arms to spread the soap over his body. The soap suds trickled down his rich chocolate skin, blending with the water that glistened it. 

Pansy’s eyes were compelled to follow down the foamy trail unhidden from the steam; she licked her lips subconsciously as her mind started to form the image of his–

“What the–! Pansy! Why are you watching me?” 

Damn it, Sam. He’s even ruining this!

The witch blinked out of her trance, the former irritation returned. “Why are you in  _ my  _ bathroom?” she demanded. “There’s a perfectly good bathroom next to the guest room where  _ you’re  _ supposed to be!” 

_ “ Oh _ ,” Sam replied sarcastically. He attempted to point in a direction towards the door. “You mean the same bathroom that shot the damn showerhead at my head? I’m lucky if I don’t have a concussion or something.” 

His pointing made his body shift in the shower, and Pansy’s eyes quickly swept him over without a second thought. She attempted to mask it with a snort. 

“You have a thick skull. I doubt you’ll have a concussion from a little showerhead,” she said while placing a hand on her hip. “It might knock some sense in your head, in fact.” Pansy pointed towards the door. “Now, out of my bathroom mister!”

Sam mumbled something under his breath as he moved to turn off the shower. He stepped out, releasing the steam; it engulfed parts of his body. 

The dark depths of Pansy’s mind pointed out to her that a certain bit couldn’t be obscured by the steam so easily. 

He didn’t wrap a towel around his person–probably would have searched for one as an afterthought like she intended to–yet grabbed a heap of clothes she assumed were his dirty laundry and walked to stand in front of her. 

It took everything in Pansy not to stare at the wet body in front of her. Sam was taller than her by five or more inches easily, so she had to look up and meet his eyes. 

“Common courtesy would be to put on a towel, Sam,” Pansy said in a low, firm tone. 

Sam’s brow rose, and Pansy knew right then that whatever was going to come from his mouth would not be pleasant. 

“Common courtesy would be to announce you’re in the bathroom and not stare at my ass,” he replied sardonically. “So I’m going to be courteous and let you watch my ass as I walk away. Goodnight.” 

Pansy was silently fuming as Sam walked past her towards the bathroom door. He opened the door and left, but he didn’t close the door to make true to his words. Pansy closed her eyes and clenched her fists again. 

_ ‘You’re not going to look, Pans. You’re better than this. You are not going to look.’ _

She chanted that consistently in her mind before cursing aloud and looking over her shoulder. Sam was leaning sideways on the door to the guest room with his back facing Pansy’s direction. She saw everything he had to offer from the back without steam getting in the way; it made only a slither of her was irked at the water trail the man left behind. 

As if he knew, Sam looked over his shoulder to catch Pansy and smirked. With his clothes held close to his chest with one arm, Sam entered the guest room and closed the door behind him. 

Her cheeks were flushed with anger, embarrassment...arousal. Sam’s back and front were images she didn’t know she could come back from. She returned her gaze to the tub and debated on whether she’d need a cold shower instead. 

* * *

It was a long week after the bathroom incident for Pansy, but it was a long, successful week as well. Sam didn’t break anything or ruin a paint job; that didn’t deter him from making his suggestions on what looked or could be better for the renovations. Pansy was well aware that he was only doing it to rile her up. 

And it, without a doubt, riled her up. Trying to combat her emotions and not pull a Granger bird attack was harder than before. It wasn’t that Sam was unattractive; he was her friend. Despite the promiscuous rumors in Hogwarts, Pansy didn’t take it to that level with her friends. It was a line she didn’t dare cross in fear of ruining her friendships with the men in her life. 

But seeing Sam completely in the nude in her shower stirred something inside the witch that she couldn’t sate herself. She needed a quick shag. Now that the renovations in the home were complete and Sam was spending the evening with Steve, she could do just that. 

First, of course, Pansy wanted to officially celebrate in her home itself. She’d bought one of the expensive bottles of wine and acquired a witch recipe book for the right spells to prepare a celebratory dinner fit for an accomplished woman such as herself. 

As dinner prepared itself, Pansy bathed and slipped into one of her black slips with a pair of heels. With a quick charm, Pansy’s hair fell past her shoulders in soft waves. Just because she was celebrating with herself didn’t mean she had to look dreadful. 

Once her makeup was flawless, Pansy made her way to the kitchen to retrieve her bottle and dinner for a delightful evening with herself. 

* * *

Pansy hadn’t intended to take the entire bottle and another down the hatch, but the second she wished Sam had been there she started to drink. He was the last person she should be thinking about, and drinking everything away was supposed to help with that. 

It. Did. Not. 

In fact, the only thing the wine did was give her a warm and tipsy feeling. What good was expensive wine if she couldn’t get sloshed from it? 

She was unaware of how long she’d been laying on the soft carpeted floor with her arms open wide; apparently, it was long enough for her houseguest to return for the night. 

Pansy turned her head to the sound of the front door opening, and she watched Sam tumble in with a large grin on his face. He waved behind him, moving forward. 

“I said I got it, man,” he said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Whoever it was–Pansy deduced it was Steve–said something to Sam in return before Sam closed the door behind him with his back. He leaned against it and sighed with content. He had a lopsided grin on his face; Pansy assumed he had some alcohol in his system as well. 

He was almost down the corridor when he paused in the walkway. Pansy watched him look in the kitchen’s direction with a small frown before turning around. It wasn’t long before he saw her sprawled on the floor. 

“Wasn’t feeling the couch?” Sam asked, a small smirk on his face. 

Pansy turned her nose in the other direction and sniffed. “Maybe,” she answered. He didn’t need to know that she missed the couch entirely after finishing her dinner. 

“And...you don’t wanna go to your room?” 

Pansy shrugged. “Maybe.” 

Sam rubbed his chin. “Huh. Well in that case,” he trailed off and stepped towards her position on the carpet. 

She started to inch away. “What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Joining you,” Sam answered as if it were obvious. 

Pansy pursed her lips. “I didn’t ask for you to join me.” 

He released another content sigh as he laid on his back beside her, turning his head to face her. “You didn’t have to.” 

She noted the glossy look in his eye; yeah, he was at least tipsy. “I assume you went to the bar with Steve,” she said, changing the subject. She tried to avoid the expression he made as his eyes took in her attire. 

Sam nodded. “Mhmm. Had a couple of beers, watched the game. Nothing special.” He reached over with his finger to graze the strap of her dress. “I assume you and your date had a boring night.” 

“What makes you say that?” she asked automatically. Pansy wasn’t afraid to correct him, but her curiosity for his response prevented her from doing it. 

He clicked his tongue. “You’re still wearing this,” he replied, gesturing to the dress strap. “And you were on the living floor alone instead of your room before I got here.” 

Pansy snorted, waving her hand dismissively. “Sam, my dear, if a man had been here I could still handle business in this dress,” she said. 

“Fully clothed?” Sam retorted. “You’re a lot of woman, but not even you could manage that.” 

She couldn’t stop the next words from leaving her mouth; even her body was rude enough to shift her on her side. Pansy leaned forward with a sly grin. 

“Who said I’m fully clothed?” she asked, watching his eyes shift as he started to connect the dots. 

“So…” Sam chuckled lightly, “...you’re telling me that underneath this dress is…” 

Pansy felt bold and scooted closer to Sam. “Absolutely nothing,” she whispered. She was conscious of what she was doing, and she knew she shouldn’t. But damn it all to Circe if the alcohol wasn’t pushing her to forgo the principles. It didn’t help matters that the fitting black t-shirt he wore hugged his muscles and brought forth the images she tried to push far away. 

Sam looked Pansy over again and whistled. “Damn, Pansy,” he said. “You know how to make a statement. Your date was a lucky guy.” 

She grinned and shook her head. “The only date I had was with myself. Celebrating the fact I finished the renovations,” she explained. 

Her explanation made him laugh, probably harder than normal given the effects of alcohol in his system. “So laying on the floor was just you finishing up the night,” he concluded. 

“Nope. I missed the couch.” 

They laughed together, rolling back on their backs once things had settled down. Until they turned to look at each other simultaneously. Pansy stared in Sam’s eyes, a feeling stirring inside her. 

“Sam,” Pansy said softly.

“Yeah?” He replied just as soft. 

It was now or never. “I don’t think I’m finished celebrating tonight,” she told him.

Sam placed his hand on his stomach, shrugging against the carpet. “What are you going to do next? Falcon is here for the party now.” He grinned, and it was the tipping point for Pansy to take action. 

In a fluid motion–as fluid as the tipsy witch could make it–Pansy rolled herself to straddle Sam. She adjusted her dress and felt the mutual attraction through his jeans. She bit her lip and placed her hands on his chest. 

“It’s not what I’m going to do,” she said. “It’s who.” As soon as she said it, Pansy didn’t give him the opportunity to reject her verbally and kissed him. She moved her hips once, earning a groan from Sam; he gripped her sides to keep her in place. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this, Pansy?” Sam asked. 

She poked his chest through the shirt she believed shouldn’t be on his body anymore. “You do not get to tease me with that body of yours and make me question my sanity,” she replied, “just for you to ask me if I’m sure I wanna do this. Nu-uh, I’m sure.” 

The fact that he chuckled made her want to smack  _ and  _ kiss him. Since she didn’t want to ruin the mood for herself, she opted by kissing him instead. 

When Pansy woke up the next, she heard noises in the kitchen and went to investigate. Clutching the tie of her robe that obscured her wand from view, Pansy peeped around the corner to see what was going on. 

Sam was shuffling around in the kitchen and humming to himself. He was cooking her breakfast. She smiled and placed a hand on her chest. That was despicably cliche but also sweet. 

A sudden popping noise startled Pansy, and the exasperated expression on Sam’s face wouldn’t match the murderous one she was going to give him for somehow breaking the sink faucet. 

Before she could rush at him, Sam held up his hand and a spatula. 

“I wasn’t using that one, I swear,” he said quickly. 

He was lucky she had magic. And that she was hungry. 

* * *

Pansy leaned against the doorframe of her home, standing in front of her friend...or whatever they were calling themselves. He was adjusting the strap of his shoulder bag as he looked at her. Steve had given him a call about something urgent, so their summer was coming to an end. 

“You’re not going to just pop up every other summer are you?” she asked, tilting her head.

Sam scoffed. “Are you kidding? We’re going to get together for drinks and stuff in the city when I’m off duty,” he said. 

Pansy rolled her eyes at him. “Uh huh, and that roommate better not break anything or I’ll  _ Avada  _ that arse quick,” she warned him. 

“Aww, Pansy,” Sam replied with a cheeky smirk. “We both know you would rather watch my ass instead.” 

She started to push him away from her door. “Tiiime to go,” she said, causing him to laugh. 

“Wait, wait,” Sam said, “there’s something I almost forgot.” 

Her brow quirked; what was suspicious. She said as such. “You couldn’t possibly have forgotten anythi–” 

Pansy was silenced by his lips, and she responded by caressing his cheek and deepening the kiss. Sam rested his hand on her hip, her body naturally pressed into his. By the time the kiss ended, they were breathing heavier, and Pansy wanted to hold Sam hostage. 

“I forgot to show you how much I’m going to miss hanging at your place,” he said with a smile, the brightness reaching his eyes. He gripped her chin lightly and kissed her forehead. “And to promise you that I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

As Sam released her chin, Pansy couldn’t help but feel something inside. It wasn’t that painful tug of anger or the lingering churn of desire. It was a light flutter in her chest; a warmth of a promise from a man who she could trust. 

She watched as he walked along the stone path to the road where one of his friends would be picking him up. He had been a dear friend to her since she’d arrived in New York, and while there wasn’t a clear label stated, she trusted him not to betray their bond and vice versa. 

Pansy angled her head as he moved further down the walkway. He was right. She hated to see him go, but she loved watching him walk away. 


End file.
